I Can't Dance, Especially With Dragons
by xXLannisterCrusher64xX
Summary: Waking up in a fictional world is far from what you would expect to do if you had a car crash. However when you wake up in Westeros of all places, a few short years before one of the most bloody civil wars in history of fictional civil wars? You better learn to dance with dragons.
1. Prologue: Waking Up in Not Connecticut

The moment I opened my eyes, and managed to see through the stinging of the light I knew that wherever I was, wasn't my room.

For one, this room looked nothing of what I remembered my room to be. For another, it was way too antique and expensive to be anything I owned.

The bed sheet was made of….**_silk_****?** Yeah I'm sure this wasn't my bed, I don't have that much money to buy _silk_ bed sheets.

That wasn't the only thing out of place. The room was decorated in colorful rugs that looked to be expensive and worth a lot of money.

All this was overshadowed by the most obvious clue of all, I was in a medieval castle and I don't live in a castle.

Something told me I wasn't in Connecticut. So where the fuck am I?

I got my answer in the form of an old man in a grey robe, wearing….chains? Maybe he's a fan of Gothic fashion or some punk rock band?

I don't mean to sound narrow-minded, but wasn't he a bit too old to be a Goth? I don't know much about them but I'm pretty sure there aren't many 60 year olds in their group.

Then again I could be wrong.

He gently closed the door; I guess he thought I wasn't awake?

I coughed to get his attention. He turned sharply, wide eyes full of surprise.

When he saw me, he smiled and he seemed to be relieved.

"Um Hello?" I said, more asked by my tone.

" $#%!" He said in a language I had no idea about.

What is he speaking? I don't think I ever heard something like this. Was it Latin? It seemed a bit like it.

"Um do you speak English?"

"# $# #$$%#!" He said happily.

Yeah he doesn't speak English.

Suddenly I felt light-headed accompanied by a head-splitting headache.

"$#%%! %$%#^?" He seemed worried and placed a hand on my shoulder.

But I blacked out the moment he did.

-x-

What followed was an acid trip through flashes and pieces of memories that weren't my own but at the same time were.

I saw memories of me playing with a brown haired woman, my mother. But at the same time there were other memories of me with another woman that my memories told me was also my mother but looked nothing like the other woman.

They were snippets of me playing, studying, growing up and a lot more with finally ending in a loud car horn and a bright white light.

-x-

I woke up with a scream, alerting the old man who jumped up from the chair he was sitting on.

"Prince Aelor! Are you feeling well now, your grace?"

"Yes, uh what did you call me?" And why is he suddenly speaking English?

"Prince Aelor Targaryen. Isn't that your name? Have you forgotten it?"

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, not because I realized that the man spoke some other language than English and I responded in that particular language I had no clue about. No, it was due to my last name, Targaryen. The only time I heard this name was in a series of books and a TV show, both of which were fictional, in a world that was beyond shit to live in, second only to the living hell known as Warhammer.

But it was just that, fictional. But now I was supposedly in it if my memories and the old man-_maester-_was anything to go by. Thank god for the memories, otherwise I'd probably have a panic attack right now.

"Where are we currently Maester Runciter?" From my memories his name was Runciter. From my other memories, there was only one maester named Runciter, and he was long dead before the books or show began. If this was that Runicter I really don't want to know the date.

"We are currently in Maidenpool, your grace. A tourney is being held to celebrate your uncle King Viserys' coronation, remember?"

I did. I remembered my _da_-father announcing that we would be travelling to the Riverlands attend a tourney. My mother fussing over the preparations.

"I do. Where are my parents?" And most importantly which Viserys is this one?

There were two, one which left the realm as a Dragon Battle Royale or the father of the fat fuck who left a serious Blackfyre problem for his kids. Well the third one got a golden helmet from his brother-in-law, maybe in this one he became king?

Nah, there's no way he's becoming king, unless somehow by magic his personality does a complete 180. Oh. Yeah he was still in the running

"Of course. Lady Rhea will be relieved to see you; she's been worried sick you know. Even Prince Daemon has been roaming around aimlessly waiting for you to wake up."

"Prince Daemon and Lady Rhea." So I'm a Blackfyre?! Wait no, he said my last name was Targaryen, so…

"Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce, your parents." He clarified

That's when my brain entered hyper-speed.

The Rogue Prince and the lady he hated to be married to. I was their kid.

"What year is it Maester?"

"Why 104 years After Aegon's Conquest of course." And 25 years before The Dance of The Dragons.

"Fuck."


	2. Chapter 1: Aelor's Amazing Survival Plan

**_104 AC_**

As per my request, Runciter did not immediately run off to call in my family.

That gave me enough time to fully appreciate how deeply fucked I was.

First off, the Dance still has years before starting. Alicent wasn't even the Queen yet, I asked Runciter.

He gave me a strange look at that, I half expected him to bring me in for treason. Thank god/ The Seven, whatever, he knew better and chalked it off to me being delusional after my injury.

Anyway, Alicent Hightower wasn't Queen yet, Aemma Arryn was still alive and kicking. That meant no Aegon II to come after my Valyrian Ass.

That's reassuring at least.

However, if my Meta Knowledge was correct, Aemma's going to die during childbirth sometime early next year.

Or maybe the entire timeline's screwed and Baelon the Baby becomes the One King of Westeros.

I wasn't supposed to exist in the….Prime Timeline? Yeah let's go with that. Meaning my existence made him surviving a possibility.

However the Arryns' track record made me doubt Baelon's survival. But hey you never know.

But if Viserys did end up tying the knot with Alicent and then have Aegon, I'm as good as dead.

Good 'ol Otto Hightower will stop at nothing short of a Faceless Man to murder me. Maybe he already has a plan to kill me.

After all, I was a big threat to his powerplay after my dad and Rhaenyra.

That's another person to factor into this, Rhaenyra. I hope she doesn't kill me in her quest to hump my father.

Would she even want to kill me? If my memories were anything to go by, I seemed to be on really good terms with her.

Besides how old was she? In the Prime Timeline she was born in 97 AC, meaning she's 7 now. I asked Runciter-again god or the Seven bless his lack of skepticism-my age.

Turns out I was about 10 months younger than Rhaenyra, who was born almost a month before my parents' marriage. Neat.

Here's to (hopefully) not being incinerated by your cousin.

Now that I knew my history and who were likely to stab, poison or roast me (literally), it gave me the green light to make my survival plans.

It was fairly simple and with a huge shout-out to Runciter for the parchment and quill, written down in English. That way no one could read it except yours truly.

Unless somehow someone managed to became a god-level Cryptographer.

I really was a bright ball of sunshine sometimes. Anyway, the plan was as follows.

First off, learn how to swing a sword. There was no way I was swinging around maces, hammers or axes, so I needed to get as good as humanly possible, as fast as fucking a sword. Melee combat was a big part of this world and crucial to survival.

Secondly, try to get as many brownie points possible from everyone. This included but wasn't limited to my cousins, both Royce and Targaryen, the Velaryons, the Lords of the Vale, the rest of the Targaryens and even the Hightowers.

This brought me to my third point, get renown and importance. If Crusader Kings has taught me anything, being popular has its benefits. Not only does it help when trying to get people to do my bidding, it also makes me important enough to not be deemed cannon fodder (or dragon fodder in this case) further increasing my longevity. Or it will just paint a larger target on my back, who knows, it _was_ a double-edged sword.

Technology-wise, I had no idea about steam engines or guns. However I did know about seed drills and had some idea about printing presses. I even had some idea about ships thanks to my grandfather a navy veteran and a fountain of enthusiasm regarding them. With luck I can implement these with somewhat relative ease.

That was all well and good, but the main thing people cared about here was martial prowess.

I'm almost 7 years old (here), so I can become a squire and then hopefully get a knighthood in a few years. **CAUTION:** Avoid squiring for Criston Cole, and any and all Hightowers; they will be out for my head. **Soon.**

I should try to squire for my dear father Daemon or Corlys 'The Seasnake' Velaryon. They both give me the option to stay the fuck away from Westeros by participating in their violent and bloody midlife crisis.

Next step would be to get my hands on a Valyrian Steel sword.

Why? Those things are worth an entire army, having one meant major renown from pretty much everyone.

Well except the Lannisters, they're just jealous.

I had a 50/50 chance of getting Dark Sister and Blackfyre was out of the question. That left only one, the ancestral sword of House Royce, Lamentation. Now normally being the heir meant that I could easily get it, but being blessed with the cunt aunts and cousins from my mother's side, helped in no small amount by the name Targaryen and my dad's disdain for them. I really had my work cut out for me.

Now onto the final point, which was arguably the one I was most excited and scared for. Getting a dragon.

The power and influence of House Targaryen was at an all time high, largely due to the presence of these huge, fire-breathing, reptilian monstrosities.

Which is why I needed one to be my ultimate power projection. While having a small dragon may help with a quick escape, the big ones won most if not all fights. That crossed out pretty much all the dragons in King's Landing, leaving only three back on Dragonstone.

I was pretty sure Laena Velaryon had already become the rider of Vhagar. That left only the remaining two riderless.

One that was famous or rather infamous for eating its own kind, earning it its disturbing but aptly earned name, and the other that was once the mount my great-grandfather earning itself the alias of The Bronze Fury.

Either were more than enough to show or rather give a partial view of the amount of power I had.

Assuming I can tame one and not become an Aelor pot roast.

Really love the optimism, me.

After I checked and rechecked, underlining each point, I heard someone knock on my door.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Your mother Ael, can I come in?"

Oh."Of course."

Looks like it's time to meet the family.

-0-0-0-

When I told Rhea to come, I wasn't sure if I could blend in or not, or what she'd make of me.

My worries seemed to be unfounded as the moment she entered the room, she engulfed me in a hug, totally catching me of guard.

I'd never even met her, well directly at least, but for some reason, I still instinctively hugged her back, like I'd done it a thousand times.

"My sweet little boy, are you alright? Does it hurt?" She asked, full of worry and emotion.

"I'm fine mother. What happened to me?" I had no clue of how I ended up bedridden. Runciter didn't say shit about anything. Maybe I should have asked him

She twitched, but answered anyway "You fell," I could see tears forming, "fell from a godsforsaken tower!"

Wait what?! I did a Bran?

I hope that won't damage my psyche in the long run. I didn't want to become an emotionless robot who played with the lives of his family and loved ones like a game of chess.

She hugged me tighter, "When that Cole boy came to tell us that you fell from that tower…" she sniffed, "…I was so lost. Then the Maester said that you might not live…"

She started sobbing more severely.

"I'm alright now, mother." I said without even thinking of how to respond.

I squeezed her hand, "I'm fine don't worry and please, don't cry." For some reason, it made me feel horrible to see her cry.

She slowly pulled back and smiled, wiping the tears from her beautiful amber eyes. That in turn made me smile.

"Yes you are. You are my brave and strong little boy."

As soon as she said that, I felt oddly happy. For some reason, I was glad that my mother praised me, glad that she thought I was strong.

Like a kid.

Then it hit me.

It seemed that Aelor's mind wasn't fully gone; it was still there, somewhere at the back of my mind.

That scared the shit out of me.

But I soon realized that it was also a good thing. For one it helps me blend in while giving me a good insight about how I was supposed to behave.

After all, any extreme behavioral change will cause people to get wary and suspicious of me. And that really wasn't helpful when making friends.

I spent a good amount of time talking with my mother after that, (hopefully) showing her that I was indeed in top shape physically and (more importantly) mentally while also learning about what was currently going on.

Apparently my dear dad had gone off to the tower I fell from, because he thought that I was pushed off of it.

So he decided to go off on his Sherlock quest and promised to make those responsible pay, if it was indeed an assassination attempt.

He was supposedly; beyond angry that something had happened to me and nearly murdered Criston Cole for it.

That would have helped a lot, not gonna lie.

But hey, that shows he really did care for me. Here's another one on the 'Ally List'.

This chain of thought, seemed to be shared by my mother, who had asked me, albeit subtly if I remembered what happened.

As it turns out I really liked to climb, just like Wheelie Wonder, but unlike Wheelie Wonder, I wasn't Assassin's Creed level good. Thus she wanted to be sure.

I had no idea about that and my memories had no clue whatsoever.

Of course, as if I didn't have enough shit to deal with!

I just woke up in an alien world, with weird silver hair and purple eyes. Now I have the added pleasure of knowing that someone was out for me.

Just amazing!

Throw in some ice zombies and a couple prophecies and we'll have the party to end all fucking parties.

-0-0-0-

Finally, as she was about to get up to go, someone started banging on the door like a maniac.

She looked confused and went to open it.

The moment she did I got hit with a small silver wrecking ball that knocked the wind out of me.

"Urrrgh"

I took deep breath and looked at my assailant, a little girl that looked to be around my current age that was crushing me with a spine-crushing hug. Wait is this-?

"Ael, you're alright! Thank the old gods and new you're alright! Grandmaster Runicter said you were up, but said that you couldn't remember things! I thought you'd forgotten me! And-"

She continued on, all the while choking me, to the point I was starting to see everything blurry.

"I *GASP* need air *GASP* Rhae!" I managed to choke out.

She immediately pulled back.

"Sorry Ael," she said looking guilty.

I rubbed my ribs, groaning while being bewildered at the same time.

This was Rhaenyra?! Who is supposed to torture and kill people mercilessly? Who would become the affectionately named, 'Maegor With Tits?'

I had a hard time comparing what I read with the actual person in front of me. She was even with the evidence in my head, not what I expected.

"Do you hate me?" She asked softly, looking unsure.

"Huh wha- oh, oh no I don't hate you?" I said lamely.

"You sound unsure. You do don't you?" She said looking sadly.

Gaaaah, the feels! "No no! I don't! Honestly!"

She still looked heartbroken.

"I could never hate you Rhae." I said with an unbelievable amount of sincerity, without even stopping to think before speaking.

However that seemed to make her happy, thanks for that, Conscience Aelor, you are my Jiminy Cricket.

Thank You In Control Aelor I'm hap- The fuck, why am I talking to myself?!

My god the Targ genes are making me go Cray Cray!

Anyway, Rhaenyra seemed to be happy after hearing that and leaned in to hug me, a much softer and intimate, just like the one my mother gave me.

However, while my mother's hug comforted me and made me happy, this one made me feel happy too, but happy with something else added to it.

What is wrong with me?!

"I'm glad you're okay." She simply said.

"I'm glad I'm okay too," I mused out loud.

She giggled hearing that, that made me smile and give her a goofy looking grin. The hell?

"Alright, time to get up now," she announced getting up.

"Wha-? But the Grandmaester said to stay in bed till he said so."

She gave me a mischievous grin, "Who cares about what that smelly old man says? I am the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and I order you to get up, Ser Aelor, at once."

I groaned.

"Hurry now, a Princess mustn't be late.'"

"Late to what?"

"The feast of course."

"What feast?"

"The feast to celebrate the King, my_** father,**_" she emphasized.

"And?"

"And you are to escort me. Be glad not many get an opportunity like this."

"Why me?"

She shrugged, "Father said he had something in mind and wanted you to escort me. Now get up, Aunt Rhea's going to send someone with your clothes. So go take a bath! You smell worse than Flea Bottom."

I wi-How'd you know what Flea Bottom smells like?" I asked suspiciously.

She gave me a seemingly sweet smile, "A Princess never tells. Now up!"

With that final message, she went out.

I shook my head, she's a real spitfire.

I got up, stumbling a bit with balance at first.

I cracked my knuckles and neck.

The door knocked, "Yes?"

"The Princess asked to prepare a bath, your grace."

I blinked a bit surprised, that was fast.

"I'm coming."

Time to win the people with my charm.


	3. Chapter 2: Plotting and Socializing

_**104 AC**_

This is the first and probably many times I'm gonna say that these guys are rich, hella rich!

The clothes that mother sent were to put it mildly, expensive, the thing was made of silk and satin and a bunch of other expensive stuff.

Right, now getting back on topic.

The feast was supposed to begin at a few moments after sunset, about one or two hours later.

So by listening to my curious and adventurous 6 year-old self, I decided to explore the castle.

It was grey.

I mean there was no other way to describe it. It was made of grey stones with tapestries decked on walls and banners hanging about.

The whole place was in a mad rush, probably because of the King. So they didn't notice the silver-haired boy walking about.

How do they not notice the kid with purple eyes and silver hair?

I seriously respect their dedication to their jobs. Or is it just plain incompetence?

Either way, I managed to get out without any major issues and make my way to the training yard when, "Prince Aelor?"

Crap. I turned around with my most innocent and 'not doing anything suspicious' kind of smile to meet the person.

The person in question, from what I could gather from my head, was Runestone's Master–at–Arms and someone Aelor really admired, Ser Jon Snow.

Contrary to his popular namesake, while a Northerner, he wasn't the bastard son of the Lord of Winterfell or R+L=J.

No he was the bastard son of some northern lord of a minor house, whose mother came to the Vale in search of work after his father knocked her up.

From here he worked his ass up and earned a knighthood from my grandfather Lord Harold Royce, who he supposedly saved from Mountain Clansmen and appointed as the Master-at-Arms after the last one got murdered by the aforementioned Clansmen.

"Ser Jon!" I said with genuine excitement. I may not have had any kind of technical interaction with this guy, but from what I got, he's a BAMF.

"I heard you woke up, my prince. Thank the Old Gods for that." Oh yeah, he was an Old Gods follower, who were quite possibly the only 'real' gods along with R'hllor.

Wait could one of them responsible for my Awakening?

I mean something was the cause for this, and one of them could very well be the cause of this. I really hope it was the creepy-faced Tree Gods and the one that needed human sacrifices.

"How goes the training going Ser Jon?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes and gestured to a group of guys trying to do some sort of Witcher-style dance combat?

"Half of these green boys can't hold a sword properly and they dream of winning the hearts of fair maidens and glory."

"Men need to have dreams of something, don't they?"

"Then they need to have the dedication to learn how to fight. At this point all the heart they're winning is theirs, pierced with a sword and the glory of dying on mud."

Wow that's cynical, but….

I looked again, one of them wearing armor with the sigil of a red salmon (House Mooton) was doing his best Geralt impression and fighting another guy with flashy sword strikes.

Which, even if I have no clue about sword-fighting, I was sure wasn't an efficient way to fight.

Well I guess he does have a point.

We spent an hour talking after that, with me mostly trying to get anthing I could on sword-fighting. I even managed to convince him to show me a few moves.

After that, Ser Jon went back to the yard, while I decided to head back in. It was feast time.

**-0-0-0-**

"Good job, cleaning up," Rhaenyra said from beside me, "You look handsome."

I grinned, "Have I won the heart of the princess?"

She rolled her eyes, but I could see a bit of pink on her cheeks.

I smirked internally.

Soon after that we went inside and the feast truly began.

And I must say, it made me think of a medieval frat party

It had the usual drinking and dancing, (and under-age drinking, but this is Westeros so not really), ass grabbing, and some guy even blanked out. Though it lacked beer pong or any other fun games.

Seeing that I was too young to divulge in these activities, I went about socializing and meeting with various lords.

It went fairly predictably, most congratulated me on my speedy recovery while some tried to curry in favors from me.

I even had the opportunity to meet the current Lord Paramount of the Trident, Lord Grover Tully.

I almost laughed when he introduced himself.

He had a grandson named Elmo, who I remembered would go on to have kids of his own named Kermit and Oscar.

Sadly unlike Grover, he did not have Blue hair, but Elmo being a Tully did have red hair, if only he could talk in that particular high-pitched voice.

I was talking to some Riverlander boys when someone called me.

"Aelor!" I heard a familiar voice.

I turned and grinned, "Father!"

I ran and gave him a hug.

Which was a bit weird. I'll chalk this off to the Aelor in my brain.

Yes I hugged the famous Daemon Targaryen.

He was a tall handsome man, with the iconic Targaryen features.

He hugged me back, "Good to see you're up and about Aelor. A Dragon can't be held down by anything for too long after all, much less a tower."

I smiled.

Yeah I like this guy, he's cool.

"Thank you father, but where were you?"

I knew where he was, but I wanted his view on this.

I saw him stiffen a bit, "I was looking about the tower, and it's a goddsdamned miracle it's still standing. By the gods I thought it'd crumble down on me any moment!"

I narrowed my eyes. So I just fell by accident?

"Do you remember what happened?"

I shook my head. I really want to know though.

He clenched his fists and growl under his breath, "The moment I find out I'll burn that shit hole you call a keep and have Caraxes feed on your corpses, Hightower!"

Huh, so he thought I was targeted by the Hightowers?

I looked back.

Otto was talking to Viserys. They looked to be having a really intense discussion about something.

I wonder what?

But from what I could gather by the little I saw of him during the feast, he seemed pretty chill for someone who supposedly tried to kill a kid.

Even more so, as said kid's father was looking for any reason to make you dragon treat.

However, before Daemon could put said plan into motion, my cousin interrupted him.

"Uncle Daemon!" She ran full speed at him

"Rhaenyra!" he smiled and grabbing her in hug.

Oh shit! God please don't let him perv on a 7 year-old. Please. Please.

"You look radiant as ever my dear niece." He grinned roguishly (pun intended)

She blushed and muttered a thank you.

Here goes any respect I just gained for him.

Before anything else could happen however, Viserys rose from his chair.

"I have an announcement to make!" He announced.

Everyone stopped to look at him.

"I King Viserys the First of My Name do hereby announce the betrothal of my daughter Rhaenyra,"

He paused for dramatic reasons, while everyone held their breath.

I looked at Rhaenyra, who was looking at me with hope in her eyes.

Huh?

", to Laenor Velaryon! The son of Lord Corlys Velaryon of Driftmark."

Everyone clapped, but I could see many look angry or defeated, while others like Otto Hightower seemed to be happy.

A bit too happy in his case.

Curious, very curious indeed.

I turned to congratulate Rhae, but she seemed extremely frustrated and angry.

"Uh, Rhae?" I asked a bit unsure. She's probably angry to not get engaged to Criston Cole or my dad.

She looked at me and her face turned to that of pure heatbreak and sadness.

Then without saying anything else she ran away, tears glistening, leaving me shocked.

What just happened?


	4. Chapter 3: The Final Charge

_**104 AC**_

**King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name**

When he decided to betroth Rhaenyra to Laenor he knew she would not approve, but he did not know it would be to this scale.

His sweet daughter locked herself in her chambers and refused to talk to anyone else bar Aemma and proclaimed that she hated him.

Then during the entirety of the tourney today did not sit beside him, even going so far as to avoid him.

She even avoided Aelor.

He originally planned to betroth him to Rhaenyra; but, what Otto reminded him of was true.

The Velaryons were a big threat to the stability of the Seven Kingdoms and needed to be brought back into the fold. He hoped she would forgive him for this.

Maybe marrying Aelor wouldn't have made her so livid, after all he was her friend and was the closest to her.

He was a good lad Aelor. Maybe he should look for a suitable betrothal for him.

Yes. He should.

Maybe the Velaryon girl? She was close to his age and would tie them further to the family.

Or the Dornish Princess Otto was telling him about, he heard that she was a year Aelor's junior, a good match and would also help make peace with Dorne.

Maybe a lady from the Free Cities? It would give the Targaryens allies outside of Westeros should anything happen.

The choices were many, but he would think about that later.

For now, he picked up the letter;

* * *

_**To His Grace, King Viserys The First of His Name**_

_**My king, I offer my sincerest congratulation on your coronation. As such, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news during such a joyous occasion.**_

_**There have been an increasing number of wildling attacks on the wall, aan increasingly great number of them have been moving further and further down South. The Rangers have also brought news that they have crowned a new King-Beyond-The-Wall.**_

_**We sincerely request as many men you can spare from the South. Even with the renewed strength of the Night's Watch due to the generosity of Her Grace Queen Alysanne, your Grace's grandmother, more men are needed to protect the Realm from the Wildling Threat.**_

_**Signed,**_

_**Jorah Cassel, 947th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.**_

* * *

He put the letter down, took a long breath, and sighed.

_-X-_

**Prince Aelor of House Targaryen**

I did not see Rhaenyra after the feast.

At first I thought it was because she was tired after the feast and was unhappy after the announcement of her engagement.

But then she started avoiding me, even when I tried to talk to her the next day.

That really hurt my little six-year old heart, having your friend ignore you

Still I decided to talk to her later after the joust and settled in to watch it.

It was awesome!

I don't know if it's due to Aelor's love of knights, sword and everything related to combat or my own appreciation for Medieval culture.

Either way, I screamed, shouted and cheered as only a six-year old could and overall was a headache for my mother.

"Aelor get down!" She scolded me for the umpteenth time.

As you can imagine, I didn't.

Many ass-whopped knights and broken lances later, Ser Robar Waynwood got his ass kicked by a hedge knight, making way for the most important joust of the Tourney of Maidenpool.

Yup, I'm talking about the tilt between my father Daemon Targaryen and that piece of crap, Criston Cole.

"Kick his arse father!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, causing people to chuckle around us and my mother to try and forcefully make me sit.

Yes I know he's going to lose, but let a kid have fun.

My message seemed to reach him, as he grinned and raised his lance as a sign of acknowledgement. While Criston Cole looked at me with a glare.

Pffft, as if I care about him.

They both moved to their respective stands and raised their lances in salute.

Then both charged, horses galloping at full tilt, lances pointed at each other.

Closer and closer.

*THUNK*

Daemon wobbled a little, while Cole seemed to be unaffected.

Again they charged

*THUNK*

Again no one fell, but this time Cole moved a bit and Daemon almost fell.

The crowd 'oooed'

Daemon took off his helmet and threw it away, raising his lance up high, and the crowds lost their mind and a lady even fainted.

He reared his horse and charged, Cole doing the same.

They charged again, lances poised both getting ready for a thrust.

*CRASH*

Criston Cole fell.

I cheered like a mad man, to the point my throat went sore.

Holy shit! He won?!

But that was nothing compared to the crowd that went raving mad and people cheered for 'The Rogue Prince.'

I looked at Criston Cole, who looked as if he had severe constipation.

Take that you SOB!

Daemon was drinking in the crowd's appreciation and raised both his hands, Gladiator-style. Now if only…

"Are you not entertained?" He screamed at the crowd, who cheered and screamed even more.

My jaw dropped, did he just say a line from a movie?!

Yes! Yes he did!

Finally the crowd quieted down as he raised the victor's laurel.

"As victor of the Tourney of Maidenpool, I crown.."

All the ladies eyed the crown hungrily.

Hah! Good luck. He's probably gonna crown Rhaenyra, or Aemma or..

"..My Fair Bronze Wife, Rhea Royce."

HUH?!


	5. Chapter 4: Away To King's Landing

_**104 AC**_

Okay, so before anything else, I need to say something.

Dragons! Are! Awesome!

Got it? Good.

After the Great Shock of Maidenpool (I still can't believe that happened), we left the very next day.

During all that time I barely managed to catch a glance of Rhae, who was constantly shadowed by Criston 'Cunt' Cole.

Why did Viserys appoint him as her sworn shield in the first place?

Anyway, whenever I even tried he appeared out of nowhere to stop me, very rudely.

I was going with my father and the rest of the family to King's Landing (Viserys's orde-sorry-wish), while my mother was going back to Runestone, to do Lady of Runestone stuff.

I'll try and talk to her there. If the cunt doesn't stop me agin.

I wish father killed him before, maybe I should try to get Caraxes to eat him….nah, even he wouldn't eat shit like him.

Speaking of Caraxes, remember what I said before about dragons being awesome?

"Caraxes, Ilagon!" The red dragon dove in an epic nose dive, while I held up my arms like in a roller-coaster, mesmerized sheer awesomeness.

It was less like an airplane and more like sky-diving. And! I! Loved! It!

"WoooooHoooo!"

"Aelor, stop jumping about like a trout and stay calm. You're a Targaryen not a Tully." My father said from behind me, as he leveled Caraxes with a command.

"You're no fun," I pouted like a six-year old.

"No fun?" He asked incredulously.

His eyes were set in determination, "No fun huh? Well challenge accepted. Oh I'll show you fun."

"Caraxes!"

The dragon responded by suddenly shooting up like a rocket.

"Waaaaaah!"

He then stopped for a few seconds before again diving wings furled, achieving terminal velocity.

Yeah! The wind slapped me and my hair was in a mess, but who cares?

The dragon then did multiple ailerons and pulled up again.

Scratch that, this is better than a roller coaster.

"Having fun?" He shouted over the crashing wind..

"Yeah!" I said voice almost muffled by the wind.

"Then you've seen nothing! Jikagon bē Caraxes!"

The dragon roared and started gaining height beating its powerful wings.

He rose higher and higher.

Then he suddenly commanded, "Caraxes! Ilagon se pālegon!"

Another dive, but this time he started a barrel roll.

We got closer and closer to the river below. _Too close._

"Father?" I asked.

He didn't spare a glance.

"Father!"

"Dracarys!"

The dragon leveled itself and let loose a torrent of fire, boiling the river and causing smoke to build up around us like a smoke machine, while we travelled through it like bad asses.

I sighed in relief.

"Had fun?" He grinned.

Pfffft, I nodded and we both laughed.

"You're the best father in the entirety of Westeros!" I said sincerely.

"There's one better than me in Essos?!" He asked with mock-hurt.

I laughed again. He's cool.

"How much farther?" I asked a bit impatiently. I loved flying, but I had to see the HUB of the Game of Thrones and set my plans into motion.

Plus, this was my first time going there.

He shrugged, "A few more hours at best. Excited?"

I nodded. I mean it was a fictional place to me before.

"Nothing much you can do here."

He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe visit the Dragonpit, that's a good place. Most of our dragons are kept there you know."

"Of course I do!"

He grinned, "What a smart boy. Let's see….there's the Street of Silk, but you're too young now…maybe in a few years I'll take you."

There's the Daemon we know. Already thing of planning to take his son to the red light district

"What else, hmmm? Oh the Street of Steel, a few good smith there, finest steel in Westeros." As an afterthought he added, "Other than these." He patted Dark Sister.

Valyrian Steel. Being at Runestone would have helped me in obtaining Lamentation, but seeing as dear uncle decided to bring me along, I'll have to make do with regular steel.

"Anyway as I said, fine smiths, good steel. I reckon you should start training soon, it's a good place for swords."

Another important part of the plan, martial training.

"Will you teach me?" I hope he does, he's a legend.

"What kind of question is that?! Of course I will! My son will be the greatest swordsman to ever live and I'd rather be damned if I didn't help him."

I felt pride and happiness, but most importantly motivation. Thanks for it dad.

**-X-**

We flew for over a few hours and I could see a huge red structure.

We're here. The viper pit known as King's Landing.

Though this was much earlier than anticipated, "When will the others come?"

"I have no idea, but given that idiot refuses to take another dragon and no one else with them has any, I'd say a good few weeks."

That's a good amount of time to know my battlefield AND get friends in the capital.

Maybe I should also start with some soup kitchens.

Also, try and get Mushroom on my side. He was a good way to get info.

I looked to the side.

"Dragonstone, the place where it all began for our House," I heard him say.

I looked at it with determination, my dragon's there. I know it.

"Want to get your dragon?"

I looked behind, how'd he know?

"I had the same look when I was your age; the strongest dragons are in Dragonstone after all."

Yeah, now to...

"I'll take you there someday. You'll like it there."

How was he-?

"A father always knows."

"Wasn't that with mothers?"

"She's not here, so I'm all you have."

I laughed and looked towards King's Landing. The board for the great Game of Thrones and my new home.


	6. Chapter 5: King's Landing: Truly Magical

_**104 AC**_

**Prince Aelor Targaryen**

King's Landing. The Capital of the Seven Kingdoms, the Seat of House Targaryen, the Largest City in Westeros and more importantly, The Shittiest City in Westeros, literally.

It's been a month since I first came to King's Landing, half of which I spent exploring.

I managed to find two hidden passages and more importantly managed to see the skull of Balerion the Black Dread.

It was way bigger than HBO, but I'm pretty sure everyone knows that.

I also saw the Iron Throne.

Twisted pieces of swords and handles, melted and twisted together to form a very intimidating and very uncomfortable chair.

However, having looked at it, I can't deny that its effects were as intended.

The Throne cast an aura of fear and reverence. Now if only it had a few more skulls and lava pouring out, it'd be perfect.

The other half I spent talking to various lords and ladies who weren't part of Viserys' bandwagon. I even got to visit some parts of the city, albeit followed by Ser Jon, my new sworn shield.

You see, seeing that I was going to the most dangerous city in Westeros (probably second to Sunspear), my lady mother sent Ser Jon to serve as my sworn shield.

The Northern man was happy to accept his position as my babysitter in all but name and managed to make it here in a week. A week!

What was Viserys even doing?

Dude still hadn't left the Riverlands.

Anyway, I was glad to get my own personal minion/bodyguard as I had little trouble to persuade him.

I was ready to enact Step 1 of Aelor's Amazing Super-Duper Survival Plan with a Semi-High Chance of Becoming Dragon Chow.

Which is why, I was currently getting my ass handed to me in the training yard and having severe regret for telling Jon to go all out.

"Keep your guard up, Aelor." He advised as he swatted me with a training sword, as I fell on my ass again.

He held it to my face, "I keep telling you, you're too young."

I growled in frustration and tried to charge at him.

He effortlessly deflected it and I fell yet again, "And too hot-headed."

"I have no time for that," I tried getting up and stumbled.

"What time? Are you preparing for a war?"

_Yes._ But you can't know that Jon.

I picked up the sword and brushed myself, "Again."

"No. No more, that's enough for today, clean up."

"I said again."

"No. Knocking you too much on you arse today won't let me do so tomorrow."

I tried to protest but my stinging rear-end convinced me otherwise.

I sighed, "You're really enjoying this aren't you?"

He smiled, "Very much."

"Why?"

"The bastard hitting the prince, ironic isn't it?"

Despite my frustration I laughed, "You're a stingy bastard, Jon Snow."

He grinned, "And you're an impulsive prince, Aelor Targaryen."

**-X-**

**Ser Jon Snow, NOT R+L=J**

After their training, the little prince wanted to go to the Dragonpit.

So he followed, albeit reluctantly.

He wasn't exactly scared of the dragons, but he was wary.

Then again, who wasn't?

His charge's famous ancestor, the Conqueror, Aegon Targaryen forged the Seven broken kingdoms of Westeros by the blood of his enemies and dragon fire.

As he followed Aelor, he happily skipped ahead of him into the huge dome, that housed their famous battle mounts.

There were only three of the beasts in there, but three were dangerous enough.

The moment they entered, Aelor ran towards a cage screaming, "Caraxes!"

The creature lifted his head from the sheep carcass and turned to the child who was running at him. It opened it's jaw and screeched at him.

Panic gripped him and he drew his sword, "My prince don't!"

His fear seemed unfounded however, as the dragon nuzzled his snout against the little prince.

He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. His charge had always been rather reckless, much to the worry of his Lady.

And as much as he enjoyed Aelor's company, he had to agree.

_**-X-**_

**Prince Aelor Targaryen**

The Dragonpit was fun.

Not only that, it helped me interact with my family's pet murder lizards and get to know what I was forcefully signed up for.

Dragonstone is sadly out of my reach, as of yet.

I nagged my father for hours a day, but he always waved me away with the excuse that he was working.

'Work,' huh?

So in addition to being a social butterfly, dungeon hunter and extremely crappy fighter, dragonlore was a huge part of my timetable.

For that reason, I was currently out of bed sneaking to the library to get a copy of _**Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History.**_

I was just at the door when, "Little prince out of bed?"

I panicked and came face to face with a short man, a bit shorter than me.

A dwarf.

Mushroom.

I sighed with relief.

Smiling I raised my hands in surrender, "Well you caught me 'Shroomie."

"Shroomie? Little prince gave Mushroom a nickname?"

I shrugged, "Why not, you give your friends nicknames don't you?"

"Friends? Mushroom never met little prince and little prince never met Mushroom."

Well he does have a point, but, "Then we could become friends."

He laughed, "Little prince wants to become friends with Mushroom?"

I nodded.

"Why?" He asked skeptical.

There we go, "Because you're the smartest man I know."

He laughed again, "Mushroom isn't smart, he's a stunted fool. The other great lords say so."

He tried to say this in a joking manner, but I could hear a bit of venom spilling.

I smiled, "Then they're blind fools and half-wits. Being a dwarf doesn't make you a fool or a half-wit."

Mushroom smiled, "You are wise beyond your years, little prince."

"And you are a wise fool, Mushroom."

He said nothing just smiled at me.

A genuine one, which I returned.

I believe I just got the most important piece in the game.


	7. Chapter 6: Awkward Reunions

_**104 AC**_

**Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, The Realm's Delight**

They finally returned to King's Landing, and Rhaenyra had to admit that she missed home.

Right at that moment, the filthy smell of the city reached her nose and she scrunched it in disgust.

But the smell, the smell of home was something she could do without.

"By the gods! What is that stench?"

She turned to her companion, Alyssa Tully.

They had stopped at Riverrun, and the two had become fast friends. So they both begged to let Aly come with her to King's Landing, which Lords Grover and Waldorf thankfully agreed to.

"It's probably the feces the smallfolk throw about. Or maybe it's from the smallfolk themselves."

Alyssa scrunched her nose, "I thought the capital would be more…"

"Clean," she offered, "Nice smelling, chivalrous, like a song?"

She nodded.

Rhaenyra shrugged, "Sorry to disappoint."

The red-head shook her head, "It's just a small matter, your grace. Besides, now I get to see the great knights, the beautiful gardens and maybe even Prince Aelor."

Her head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes, "Aelor?"

Alyssa nodded enthusiastically.

"Why?" She was starting to get angry.

"You told me so much about him, Aelor is this, he would do that, he likes those. So…" She shrugged.

She couldn't argue against that, but...

"Besides you even made him a handkerchief," she pointed out, "So you two must be very close."

She looked down at her hands and saw the bronze colored handkerchief with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen stitched on in black.

Just like Aelor said he would like his personal sigil to be.

She even managed to, albeit poorly; stitch the runes of Aunt Rhea's House.

She thought it looked like the perfect blend of both Houses.

Perfect_, just like him_.

She had been very cruel to him at Maidenpool, ignoring him, even going so far as to order Ser Criston to stop him from seeing her.

She was being and idiot, which may very well have cost her Ael.

But she wasn't thinking straight.

Her sudden betrothal to the Velaryon boy had left her confused.

Then it dawned on her, that she was promised to some boy she had never seen before and not Ael. She thought it was the gods' punishment for hurting him.

Even now it hurt her, but she couldn't even look at him back then.

But that all was in the past.

She gripped the piece of cloth.

She would apologise, for everything and hope he would like the gift that was a literal pain to make, and forgive her.

Rhaenyra rubbed her bandaged fingers.

_**Before you ask, yes. Alyssa is an OC. This takes place a week after the last chapter.**_

"Not bad," Jon told me, "You've improved."

And indeed I did.

Last week I could barely last a second, but today I lasted for four whole seconds.

That's progress!

I wiped my dusty rear and got up, "How long did I last?"

"Five seconds."

Scratch that, five seconds is my top now.

"You need to keep your guard up, and your footing needs some work. Just the posture of your foot alone can give away your attack."

I nodded

"Though," he appraised me, "Your blind charge will save them a lot of hard work."

"I can't help it! You leave too many openings!" I defended myself, "You can't blame me for attacking!"

He shook his head, "It was a bait to disarm you, and you took it. You need to keep your eyes sharp, look for body language."

He picked up a practice sword, "Let's try again."

I took a deep breath and raised my own sword.

He left his right side lightly guarded, but his feet…

I sullied forward and hit attacked his left side, which he blocked easily.

"Good," he nodded, "You're learning, but…"

He smacked my unguarded legs, "You're too aggressive."

"Gahhh!" That hurt!

"Alright now-"

"Forgive me for the intrusion, little prince." A voice interrupted.

I turned to see Mushroom, waddling down the yard.

"Ah Shroomie, how are you?"

He smiled at the nickname, "Quite well."

I grinned.

In less than one week, we'd become really good friends. Goes to show how being nice to someone can really help you.

Mushroom knew about more secret passages than the two I found.

We overall found about seven so far, and from what I could make, there were even more.

Say what you want about Maegor, but man knew how to get his castles built.

Mushroom looked to Jon and nodded," Snow Knight."

He rolled his eyes. "Dwarf," he greeted.

The cheerfully grinned, "Aye, Mushroom's a dwarf."

Jon rolled his eyes again.

"Is there something you want, dwarf."

"Oh nothing much Snow Knight, Mushroom heard the King was near the city. The Rogue Prince searches for the little prince."

Daemon's looking for me?

"Tomorrow then Jon?' I asked my sworn-shield.

He nodded, "Aye, you best be of now, Aelor."

I nodded and dropped my sword and walked back into the Red Keep, Mushroom in tow.

As we walked through the halls, I asked, "Heard anything interesting."

He waddled in pace with me, "Mushroom heard the Lords whisper of the King planning marriages."

"Marriages? Princess Rhaenyra's?"

He shrugged, "Mushroom couldn't listen to much."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He paid no attention and kept on walking.

I shook my head.

Whose marriage were they talking about?

Rhae's already betrothed, who else?

Daemon? No he hasn't been ranting about mother from what I heard.

Then that left…

I abruptly stopped as realization dawned on me.

Gods damn you Viserys!

Of course, there was one person who was free.

_Me_.

_**-X-**_

"Ah! Finally found you Ael!"

"Sorry for being late father."

Daemon laughed, "Please, we're greeting my idiot of a brother, I'd rather you be late. Not much to miss about him."

I smiled.

He really didn't have a high opinion about his brother.

Not that I can blame him, though.

"Ael, listen your moth-"

He couldn't finish as right at that moment we heard cheering outside and the large doors opened…

To reveal my intefering Kingly Uncle, my Queenly Aunt, a red-headed girl, who looked like…Sansa?!

No, not Sansa, but there was no doubt that she was a Tully.

And beside her, with Criston Cole by her side, Rhaenyra.

She kept her head down the entire time, but she lifted it up looked at the welcoming party and hung it down again.

Aunt Aemma was looking worried, while the Tully whispered something in her year, to probably cheer her up.

It did nothing.

Everyone seemed by a bit unsettled by the Princess' grim demeanor and visible depression.

Well visible to all except Visserys.

I gaped at the guy as he hugged my father, "Brother it's good to see you!"

"Glad to see you didn't burn the city down," Viserys joked with a laugh.

My father shrugged, "Caraxes' been too lazy."

I snorted while, the ass laughed. Ignorant, to his daughter's utter distress.

Hell even Daemon was giving her a worried look!

"We'll talk later then, Daemon."

With that he walked out of the room, with his entourage slowly dissipating.

I saw Rhae talking to Aunt Aemma.

There's my chance.

I walked over to them and bowed, "Aunt Aemma, how are you?"

The Queen smiled at me, and gestured me to come closer.

At which point she hugged me and gave a kiss on my head.

"I'm well, dear nephew. But…" She looked at my bruised hands, "What happened to you?!"

"Training."

She gave me a look.

I shrugged, causing her to chuckle, "What a brave little knight you are."

I grinned like an idiot, full of pride.

She then excused herself, leaving me with my cousin.

I looked at her as she desperately tried to avoid eye-contact.

Well this is awkward…

"So…" I tried.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

'I'm sorry Ael."

Eh "What for?"

She finally looked up and without warning engulfed me in a hug.

She then quickly let go.

"Meet me in the gardens in a few hours. Okay?"

I nodded confused.

"Good. Come Aly."

She walked out, the red-head, Aly gave me an apologetic look as she followed, "She's like that a lot nowadays."

I watched the doors close and blinked.

What just?

"Well you seem to be having problems."

I turned to find a grinning Daemon.

I sighed, "I don't understand what is wrong."

"Women tend to be like that." He said sagely.

"Like mother?" I asked.

His eyes widened, he cleared his throat, "More so for her."

"Anyways, about your mother."

He handed me a letter, The Royce seal on it.

Oh no.

"Is mother alright?" My god, did she fall of her horse like in canon?!

"She's alright Ael," he assured me, "Read it."

Skeptical and not out of worry, I opened the letter and read it.

Let's see…

Runestone this… blah blah

Maester Lyman…sick? Headache?

What?!

I continued.

Maester confirmed…with…

My eyes widened and I dropped the letter in shock.

I can't believe it!

I picked it back up and read it again.

**With child.**

I was going to be a big brother


	8. Chapter 7: Moment under Moonlight

**104 AC**

I wasn't expecting to hear the news of Rhea's pregnancy. I mean i was happy, I get to be a big brother!

But what the actual fuck happened between Daemon and Rhea? In the Prime Timeline they hated each other. Do they love each other in this Kelvin Timeline?

I always chalked my existence off to the forced Bedding Ceremony. However now, this I wasn't sure what to think.

Whatever the case may be, I didn't want to discuss it as of this moment. It was a whole another can of worms entirely.

Right now I was busy with Rhaenyra

She told me to be in the gardens in a _'few'_ hours, But she didn't mention how _few. _So I decided to head after sunset. I don't know, it seemed appropriate.

The Red Keep's gardens were beautiful. It had beautiful flowers, many of which I didn't even know the name of, trees and stylized walls and statues

Even though the sun wasn't up, the gardens was still something to be admired.

**-0-**

**-0-**

I found a bench under a large birch and sat down to wait.

*CAAW!*

I bolted up and nearly stumbled with how quick I turned, to see the source of the noise.

A raven.

Oh no.

"Shooo! Go away!" I tried to wave it off.

The creep kept on staring at me with beady eyes.

"I don't have any birdseeds, go away!"

Staring.

"Damn creepy fucker."

But I noticed something off…its eyes were…white?

A hand on my shoulder caused me flinch and jump back.

I looked to find Rhae, giving me a confused look.

I sighed in relief.

"What were you doing?" She asked.

"Nothing," I turned, the bird had flown away.

"Are you looking for something?"

I shook my head, "Nothing at all. Now why meet up, not that I complain, just curious."

She took a deep breath.

"I wanted to give you this."

She handed me a piece of cloth, a handkerchief.

It was well made, and was made by her, judging from the stitches.

A bronze colored piece of cloth, with a black three-headed dragon stitched on. It was surrounded by black Runes.

The very same runes of House Royce.

"Do you like it?" She asked sounding a bit hopeful and unsure, "I thought about how your sigil would look like and made it…I know it's not that good-"

"I love it!"

It was perfect! Especially the runes and black dragon. I got my own brand logo y'all!

"You like it?" She sounded relieved.

I nodded.

"I-I'm so happy!"

She gave me a bright smile, which I returned, when I noticed something, under the moonlight.

Her fingers were bandaged

Gods! Did…?!

I looked at the handkerchief and back at her, "Rhae did you..,.?"

She hastily tried to hide her fingers in her gown, "It's just a pin prick, n-nothing much."

Yeah right, I'm not having it.

I reached for her hands.

She tried to move them, but I was too fast.

Her fingers were bandaged and I could tell, that they were bloody.

My god, did I cause this?!

"Rhae, I'm so sorry! You got hurt! I-I"

What am I supposed to say?!

She put a hand on my mouth, "Don't."

Wha-?

"Don't apologise Ael. It's my fault, I was willfully an ass to you."

She hugged me, "I even caused you to fall from the tower."

"Huh?"

"You don't remember."

She took a deep breath, "I wanted to see how good of a climber you are, so you climbed the tower, you fell."

Wow.

I was not planning to hear this today.

So no one was out for me? I sighed with relief.

Her hug tightened, "Please don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"I-I was the reason you fell,"

I shook my head, "Nah, I was an idiot really. Shouldn't have climbed in the first place."

I mean who climbs a broken tower? Except Bran?

"But-" She sounded unsure.

"Look Rhae," I placed my hand on her shoulders, "Do you remember what I said when you last asked if I hated you?"

"W-what?"

"Do you remember?" She nodded.

I smiled, "I still think the same."

I took her hands, giving them a kiss, "I could never hate you Rhaenyra Targaryen."

Well unless you kill thousands of civilians or murder puppies.

She smiled, her eyes glistening with tears, "You really mean that don't you?"

I nodded in affirmation.

She wiped her tears, "I'm so relieved."

Then without any warning she kissed my cheek.

Wha?

Don't Blush. Don't Blush! DON'T BLUSH!

I blushed.

"Wha-? Huh? Why thi-?" I asked lamely, not making an ounce of sense.

She grinned, "See you at tea tomorrow Ael!"

"Wha-?" I asked still disoriented.

"Mother's having tea with Lady Alicent. I'm to bring a guest. But a princess should have more, so I'm bringing Aly AND you!"

Wait tea? What tea? What's tea?

"Farewell. Don't keep the Princess waiting."

She ran off.

I blinked in confusion, regaining my senses.

Did that just happen?

I pinched myself.

It did!

"Damn! Why are women so hard to understand?" I mused out loud.

*CAAW!*

FUCK! I turned, to find the raven again. Of course it had to ruin my happiness. Damned greenseers!

Sighing I did my best to walk back to my room and ignore my stalker.


	9. Chapter 8: Aelor Targaryen

Grandmaester Runciter of King's Landing

"Thank you Grandmaester," the little prince said.

He smiled and replied, "No need to thank me, my prince. I live to serve House Targaryen."

He shook his head, "Call me Aelor in private, Grandmaester. I swear I lost count of many times I tried to get this through the thick skulls of Jon and you."

He chuckled, "If that is your wish, Aelor."

He grinned, "Much better. Good bye."

With that he bolted out, to the training yard, Runicter guessed.

He smiled, the little prince never ceased to amaze him.

He knew nothing of him at first, except when he treated him after his fall and the letter Maester Lyman had written to him, stating that Aelor was 'a bright boy'.

But what he saw when he first took his lessons, wasn't a bright boy.

No it was a genius.

The first time, he tested him on numbers, he was a bit surprised, though not by much to find him finish it in no time at all.

It wasn't that difficult, so he didn't think much of it at first.

But he was wrong to ignore it at first, so very wrong.

One day, he didn't attend his lessons. He was in the training yard, the princess said.

Understandable, young boys were always fascinated by knights and swords, so he did nothing the first time.

Then the second. The third, the fourth and even the fifth.

But on the sixth day in a row he missed his lessons, he decided to do something.

So he assigned him a different work than what they were doing. Something much harder for any boy of six, or even ten could do.

He expected him to fail, so that he could give him a talking about the importance of his lessons.

However, it didn't go as he intended, far from it.

Aelor handed him the numbers in less than no time at all, but they weren't wrong or unanswered as he thought they would.

No, each question was answered. Correctly!

He was astonished!

A boy of six, doing numbers and mathematics, grown men would find hard to solve.

He then tested him again. And again. And again.

Finally stopping at problems, those short of three yellow gold links couldn't hope to solve.

He saw Aelor, scrunch his face at the questions, and internally smiled, thinking he had had him.

But he hadn't, the prince solved every one of them, perfectly.

He gaped at him and stared at him, dumbfounded.

From then on, they had discussions of different issues, but mostly mathematics.

Aelor's tremendous head for calculations had come up with shortcuts to so many different problems that he lost count.

But what he was especially interested in was the Prince's recent mathematical theory, the 'pie'.

At first he was confused, and asked him why he named it after a food.

Aelor, burst out laughing, and continued on for a good few minutes, before wiping his grinning face and said it was because a pie was circular in shape.

But what he found was no laughing matter. The 'pie' was one of the greatest mathematical discoveries of the century!

It made finding the measurement of circle so easy, that a child could do it!

When he asked how he came up with it, he simply replied, "I like pie."

The sincere and nonchalant tone still brought a smile to his face.

But his face sobered, when he was reminded of why the prince came to see him.

Aelor was having dreams, nightmares even.

According to him, the first started about a month ago and since continued on.

While most may just call it 'bad dreams' and leave it at that, Runciter thought it was more than it seemed.

After all, a perfectly fine, healthy and happy boy like Aelor, should not have nightmares every night for no apparent reason.

Even stranger was the account of these dreams, he dreamt of dragons. Of wolves, lions, stags and other animals, all fighting each other, before a great blizzard came and froze everything.

He tried to console him by stating that they were just bad dreams, but he was lying.

The Valyrians were well-known for their use of magic and their prophetic dreams.

As a matter of fact, the most well known of them, Daenys the Dreamer was Aelor's ancestor.

Daenys foresaw the Doom and allowed the Targaryens to flee.

Aelor foresaw animals fighting and freezing over. He hoped and prayed a great calamity wouldn't strike the Seven Kingdoms.

He sighed and pulled at his single Valyrian Steel link.

If only he knew more.

-X-

Queen Aemma Arryn of The Vale

Aemma closed the letter from her niece and sighed.

She poured herself a glass of Arbor Gold and mulled over what she had just read.

The situation in the Vale wasn't looking to be getting any good.

As Rhea approached childbirth faster, the problems grew.

Of course it was a joyous occasion, without a doubt. They were good friends, close to sisters even and she couldn't help but be happy for her.

But the power struggle was prevalent.

House Royce, though loyal, always had great influence in the Vale. They even ruled as Kings before the Andal Invasion, after which they became sworn to the Arryns of the Eyrie.

However, that same respect and influence as kings, carried on to this day.

And therein laid the problem.

The Royces were sworn to the Arryns, but her husband and good brother, wouldn't let Aelor, the heir apparent change his name from Targaryen to Royce.

Even still, Viserys insisted that the new cadet branch of House Targaryen, her little nephew would herald would be sworn directly under the Crown, by passing the Arryns.

This was a slight to House Arryn as one of their most influential vassals would no longer remain such.

Of course many argued against it, chief among them being Rhea's own sister Ysila, who ried to push her own son, Yohn, to be the next Lord. Further fuelled by the immediate arrival of Rhea's second child.

Very few supported her, of course, many not doing so out of respect for Rhea and House Royce, while others as they didn't want to get embroiled in what was essentially a family matter or not wanting to endanger themselves in a power grab that had a high chance of failing.

She grimaced. What Ysilla was doing angered her, but it was nothing compared to Rhea's fury.

Aemma knew Rhea, she would fight for her children's inheritance.

Through the Seven Hells and Storms if needed

She took a sip.

And then came the matter of all this conflict, Aelor.

She smiled, she loved her nephew dearly. He was always gracious, kind and polite, and whenever he called her, Aunt Aemma, it was always with so much love and respect that she couldn't help but love him back.

She didn't care that much about Daemon's thoughts, that man was a huge part of the issue after all.

Aemma took a deep breath.

Which is why, she had to do something. Not for her dangerously foolish and headstrong good brother, but for someone, who was essentially like a son to her.

-X-

Alyssa Tully, The Princess' Closest Confidant

Alyssa enjoyed walking through the gardens of King's Landing, especially with the princess around.

They always had so much fun gossiping, smelling the flowers and discussing rumors.

That was one of the things, she'd come to accept here, the gossiping.

There were rumors and other interesting things to learn about the various lords an ladies around.

Like Lord Vylar's eldest son of seven-and-ten, still wet his bed!

They had a good laugh over that, especially Prince Aelor.

She smiled fondly at the Prince's memory.

He was everything Rhae had told her and then some.

For starters, he had no trouble talking with them and participating in what her brother Elmo called, 'Silly Girl Talk.'

He had no issue with hearing them out and was always happy to spend time with them.

Which is why the letter her mother sent her, again came to her.

Father, or more specifically grandfather was interested in a marriage alliance with the Targaryens.

This would help House Tully rise in power and be respected throughout the realm.

To be honest, she would have no issue with that.

Aelor was kind and smart, and very handsome. However, she felt that it would be a betrayal to her friend, who she knew cared for Aelor more than just friends.

As if on cue her friend ran over to her and exclaimed, "We're going to Dragonstone!"

"What?" She asked.

She rolled her eyes, "I said. We're going to Dragonstone."

Odd, "All of a sudden?"

She shrugged, "Father and Uncle Daemon were fighting, so he asked him to go there."

"How do you know that?"

She looked at her feet and bit her lip.

Oh, Alyssa smirked, "Rhae?"

She threw her hands up, "Alright fine! I overheard them talking and father got angry and told him to go to Dragonstone for a few days. He even said we could come!"

The King and Prince Daemon were quarrelling? Whatever for?

"Maybe I can ride Syrax to Dragonstone."

That brought her back. The dragon?!

"Oh come on Aly! Syrax won't do you any harm! Trust me!"

"But she can breathe fire!" She defended herself.

"But she's my dragon. She won't harm you AND you're coming with me!"

Alyssa stuttered. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Rhaenyra dragged her to the Dragonpit.


End file.
